I didn't mean to
by Melodious329
Summary: One night at a bar changes everything for Dean and Sam. Can they find their way back to each other? Wincest, hurtDean
1. Chapter 1

Dean picked up his money from the high chair beside the pool table. He smirked as he pocketed the cash and headed to the bar for a drink.

He didn't plan to stay long, he had already had two beers while playing. And Sammy was waiting for him at the hotel room.

The older hunter just wanted a minute to himself. It wasn't that he needed to get away from his younger brother, but they did spend nearly every minute together, particularly now that their relationship had taken a turn toward the romantic.

Frankly, Dean mostly wanted to reflect on his good fortune. Sam had always been Dean's life. It was caring for his brother that had brought Dean out from under the trauma of their mother's death.

When they were growing up everything had been about Sammy, about taking care of him and keeping him safe. He had never thought about his little brother romantically. When Sam had left, it had broken Dean's heart. He had wanted to be glad for his brother. After all he wanted Sam to be happy, to have everything he ever wanted.

Asking Sam to help find Dad had been the most selfish thing Dean had ever done and he still didn't know whether he should regret it or not.

Seeing Sam again had been a revelation. When his younger brother had left, he was already huge, but the added years away had given Sam grace, like he was finally comfortable in his own skin. He had found a self-sufficient man where his baby brother had been.

It was then that Dean had discovered this desire. Sam was the only person he saw as an equal. Of course, Dean still tried to control and comfort and protect Sammy, but that was just because he loved his brother, now he just loved him a little differently.

Dean looked up, unsurprised that a man had come to sit beside him. The hunter had felt eyes on him all night, but that wasn't unusual. As much as Dean tried to stay in the shadows of life, people always noticed him, the way he looked. In his teens, he had learned how to endure the attention, even how to use it to his advantage. His beauty had become just another shield to hide behind.

The man who sat beside him was about as tall as Dean but heavier built with dark eyes and hair just like Sam. But the man looked nothing like his brother.

Dean admitted the man was attractive though. He had looked at guys as long as he could remember, as long as he had looked at girls certainly. But Dean had never done anything with another man until Sam. He just couldn't be vulnerable like that with a person as strong as himself.

Until Sam. Sam really was the exception to all his rules. Dean liked it that Sam was bigger, stronger, liked it when Sam took control. At least during sex, the rest of the time…

"So you're good at pool…?"

Dean stared puzzled for a second, unsure what the man was talking about until the man waved a hand at the pool table.

"Oh, yeah. Guess it's a hobby of mine."

The man laughed, deep and genuine. Dean couldn't help but smile himself, impressed that the man knew that he had hustled his opponent.

"I'm Matt." The man reached out a hand towards Dean.

Dean took it, still smiling. "Dean," he introduced himself.

"What're you drinking?" Matt gestured towards Dean's empty pint glass.

The hunter hesitated only a moment. He knew that the man was interested in more than a drink. He could practically feel the heat in Matt's gaze, but it was only a drink. There was nothing wrong with a little flirting, it wasn't like he was planning to cheat on Sam. Ever.

"Shiner Bock," he answered.

Dean couldn't help turning to look at the door, thinking of Sam. Drinking with Matt wouldn't take any more time than drinking by himself, though, and it wasn't as if he and Sam were connected at the hip. At least Dean was trying not to be, trying to keep some perspective and give Sam some room. Room to make sure that this _thing_ between them was what his brother really wanted.

He had only looked away for a moment, but if he hadn't, the hunter would have noticed that Matt put something in his drink. Dean would have noticed that his beer had an oddly large head on it. But he didn't and when he turned back around, Dean drank deeply trying to quell his rising panic, that panic that froze his insides when he thought about Sam leaving again, rejecting him.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Sam was livid. He had been waiting for Dean to come back from the bar, but it had gotten later and later. Before he would have known what Dean was up to, his older brother would probably be in some alley with his hand up some bimbo's shirt and her hand would be…

He tried to stop those thoughts. He believed that Dean would never consciously hurt him, but Dean was used to sleeping with a new girl in every town. What if his brother just didn't regard sex the same way Sam did, didn't think it would be a big deal.

Finally Sam had stomped off to the bar, his anger only increased that he had to walk there. The fact that Dean was not inside when he made it to the bar didn't help his mood either.

Walking up to the bar, Sam proceeded to ask the bartender if she had seen Dean, describing his brother as about six foot, blondish…

"Really handsome?" the lanky brunette finished for him.

Sam scowled. He knew it wasn't his brother's fault that Dean looked the way he did, but his brother didn't have to play it up as much as he did either.

"That would be him."

"Yeah, he left about an hour ago with Matt, one of our regulars."

Sam was speechless. He'd never thought that Dean would actually hook up with someone, especially a guy.

The bartender kept talking though. "Yeah they were pretty friendly, if you know what I mean." She winked a heavily made up eye at him.

The younger hunter didn't respond, simply turned back toward the door abruptly. Outside, he noticed that the Impala was still there. Briefly, Sam considered doing the car irreparable damage, but he knew that that wasn't the answer for the awful pain of betrayal he felt.

Dean had always been there for him, whenever, whatever he needed. His older brother had been his mother when their own had died, his father when John couldn't be bothered, his friend when Sam had had to leave all of his others behind, his training partner, his mentor, his supporter.

He had idolized Dean as a child, and then hated his older brother for it as a teen. And after running away, Sam had now realized that Dean was the love of his life. But now it was all gone, Dean obviously didn't love Sam, not romantically, not like Sam loved him.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean started to feel strange about half an hour after Matt had sat next to him. He knew he wasn't drunk, that there was no way three beers made him feel like this.

The older hunter felt like he'd drunk three times that much. Dean felt very relaxed. He had started slurring his words, talking about Sammy, about how great his little brother was and how much Dean loved him, that he would die for Sam.

He tried to get up, intending to leave, to go to Sam, but he practically fell off the stool. But Matt was there, Matt was helping him. The way the man was touching him wasn't right though.

Matt was standing too close, his breath was hot on Dean's face as the man whispered in his ear, kissed his neck. Matt's hands while preventing Dean from face planting on the bar's floor were too intimate, one large hand wrapped possessively around his hip, the other arm holding Dean tight to Matt's own body.

That's when Dean knew, knew that he had to get away because something was very wrong. He tried to push the man away, but his movements were uncoordinated and sluggish, his vision swimming.

The older hunter had no idea how they left the bar, or where they went. He woke up when he landed on what was, upon closer inspection, a bed.

Dean tried to get up, tried to get away, to call out. He tried to prevent Matt's hands from undressing him, from stroking over his sweat-slicked skin. He felt hot and cold at once, nauseous, but his difficulty breathing, he couldn't decide whether to attribute to whatever drug he was sure he'd taken or whether that was just an effect of his panic.

Because he understood now what was going on, what was going to happen and he also knew that he was powerless to stop it. Matt turned Dean over onto his stomach, bending one of Dean's legs to open the hunter up further.

He started to cry long before his body was breached. The tears were silent, falling continuously down his face, making it even more difficult to breathe against the mattress. Dean wanted to yell, to scream out his pain and fear and frustration.

But all he could do was lay there.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Dean didn't know how he got back to the bar but he woke up slumped across the front seat of the Impala. He had been redressed but it didn't stop the feelings of being cut completely open, laid bear.

He opened the door abruptly, vomiting up whatever had caused this situation onto the pavement beside the car.

Eventually he pulled the Impala up to their motel room. Dean felt numb as he opened the door and got out. He didn't want to go in. He knew what Sam would say, words like: 'it's over' and 'I hate you'. But it was no use putting it off, Sam didn't deserve to be kept waiting.

Sam jumped up from his seat at the table in front of his laptop when the door opened. They simply stared at each other at first, each seeing what they had expected in their lover's eyes.

Sam saw Dean's sorrow, his regret and shame. Dean's green eyes were blood shot from his late night activities. Sam's eyes showed his pain and disappointment, his anger. And Dean felt like he deserved every bit of it.

Finally Sam started. His voice was loud and accusatory, not yet yelling but close.

"I know where you've been, Dean. That you left the bar with some guy."

Dean said the only thing that he could. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, Sammy."

"Don't call me Sammy!" It hadn't taken long for the younger Winchester to begin yelling. "You have lost that privilege, Dean. You didn't mean to! How does that work?! You tripped? You went to the wrong room? How could you?!"

Dean didn't answer, not that Sam was expecting him to. There was nothing the older hunter could say that would undo what had been done. There was no use yelling.

Sam watched as tears filled Dean's eyes, not falling as usual, but there. Sam's own tears slipped down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry. I love you…"

"Don't" Sam's voice was quiet and harsh this time as he tried to swallow back the lump in his throat. "Give me the keys. I can't be near you right now. I can't even look at you right now."

Dean handed them over, making sure not to touch his brother's fingers. He was certain that he would break into a million pieces if they were to touch. Flinching as the door slammed behind his lover, he stood there stunned, not knowing what to do with himself.

Dean felt like he was choking, trying to keep the tears back, preventing the scream from coming out. He collapsed back against the wall and slid down. And then he was sobbing uncontrollably, something he couldn't ever, ever remember doing. But there was no point in being strong, there was no one here to see and it was obvious to Dean that he wasn't strong.

Worthless, he felt worthless and disgusting and pathetic. The ice was back in his chest with a vengeance, that cold that he had known when Sam had left the first time.

And this time it was all his fault. Of course Sam couldn't stand to be near him right now, Dean couldn't stand himself. Everyone he loved left him. _He ruined everything_. All Dean had ever wanted was to keep Sammy safe, to make him happy and now he had hurt his brother terribly.

It didn't matter that he didn't mean to, it was his own carelessness that had caused Sam's pain. And he knew he would never be able to make up for it. There would never be anyone else for him. Dean had never wanted another man to be inside him like that. No one but Sam.

There was nothing left, nothing. Nothing to live for. Sam was better off without him. He didn't deserve to live. Dean was supposed to protect his little brother but instead he had broken Sam's heart.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: So as many of you might have guessed, this story is really a thought experiment about being the partner of a victim of assault. Thanks for all the reviews and keep 'em coming._

Sam didn't know why, but he ended up back at the bar. It was mid-afternoon and the bartender was different, a short busty blonde this time. Fortunately she was just as friendly.

He couldn't help himself. He had to ask even though he didn't want to know.

"Excuse me, is a man named Matt here? I was told he was a regular."

The girl smiled flirtatiously at Sam, seemingly more than willing to help the younger hunter with _whatever _he needed. But she pointed him over to a dark-haired man sitting in a booth, chatting with another man.

Sam took his Coke over to the booth directly behind the man. He tried not to stare. _Matt_ didn't seem all that special. Yeah the man was attractive but…why? Was this man worth everything that he and Dean had had?

He sat there, content to just hate the man but he couldn't help listening to their conversation.

"So I saw you with that guy last night. Nice." The unknown man was talking about Dean, Sam knew and it made his blood boil.

_Matt_ chuckled knowingly. "Nice? That guy was _hot_, hotter than anything you could get."

"You didn't get him," the unknown man said sullenly.

"Doesn't matter how I got him there just that I was balls deep in his ass last night."

"So how was he?"

"Hot. He was a fighter even after the roofie, kept bucking against me."

Both men laughed before _Matt _spoke again. "He kept calling out for some guy named Sam though. I just shoved his face in the mattress…"

Sam was in the man's face before either of them could think, pulling _Matt _out of the booth and slamming him down onto the table.

"What did you do to my brother?" Sam's voice was low and dangerous.

"What?! Who? I didn't do anything to…" Matt's voice was already panicked.

Sam tightened his grip on the man's shirt, pulling Matt partially upright. "Dean, the guy you were with last night, the guy you were just talking about…did you drug him?"

He could tell from the man's face that Matt was thinking about lying and he slammed the man back down on the table.

"The truth. Now."

Matt gasped in a big breath before giving up. "Yes, yes, ok. I put something in his drink to help him relax, I just wanted…"

Sam's right cross cut off the man's words. He didn't want to hear anymore. He was drawing his arm back for another punch, when it suddenly occurred to him.

Dean. Dean had been raped and then Sam had…Oh God, Sam had crushed him. Abruptly the younger brother let the man go and ran out the door.

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Sam burst into the door of their hotel room, horrified but not surprised at the sight that greeted him.

Dean was crouched against the other wall, sobbing, cradling a gun in his lap. His brother didn't even seem to notice that Sam had come back in for long moments, but only kept staring at the gun.

The elder hunter didn't want to kill himself. He had long ago come to terms with the idea of dying young, but not like this, not by giving up. But Dean couldn't see any other way. He had dealt with a lot of pain in his life, but he didn't think he could live with this.

Before he had stayed because he had believed that he was needed. Sammy needed _somebody_ to be a parent, Dad needed _somebody _to back him up…so Dean became the _somebody_, gave them what they needed. Without them, did he even exist?

Sam slowly dropped to his knees, crawling towards his brother so as not to startle the elder man.

"Dean…"

Dean lifted his face at Sam's words, tear tracks on his cheeks and clumping his long eyelashes. The elder brother's expression changed quickly from despair to shock to anger.

"Get out Sam."

"Dean, please don't do this…"

"Get out Sam!!" Dean's commanding voice boomed loudly in the small room.

Sam fought against his initial instinct to obey his brother as he never had learned to do for his father.

"No, Dean. I know what happened. He drugged you. It wasn't your fault…"

"Stop. I didn't mean to…but it doesn't change what happened. You're better off without me." He steeled himself and lifted the gun. "I have to."

Sam watched his brother's full lips quivering as Dean lifted the gun to his head. There was only one thing he could think of to stop his brother…

"Dean, no…I can't…I can't live without you. Stay for me." Sam knew it was a low blow, to play on his brother's _need_ to give Sam whatever he needed, but, at this point, the younger hunter couldn't care less.

It worked as he knew it would. Dean stared at him with eyes filled with such pain, tightening his jaw in frustration even as he set the gun down with jerky movements.

Sam reached for it, taking the clip out and checking the chamber before setting it aside. Then he reached for Dean, pulling the smaller man into his arms despite his brother's obvious reluctance.

But Dean didn't have the strength to fight the comfort that Sam offered then. He felt weighed down by his grief, exhausted, and lying in his brother's strong arms simply felt too good. He would hate himself for his weakness later.

Sam pulled his brother up with him and maneuvered them over to the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard and held his brother between his legs, pushing Dean's head to lean against his chest. Dean was still crying, a disturbing sight, but at least his brother had stopped sobbing, only sniffling now.

Sam handed him some tissues from the bedside table and eventually Dean slept.

The younger hunter stayed awake long after though. Carefully, he repositioned Dean to lie curled up on the comforter, covering the other man with the other half.

He sat at his computer, looking up anything he could find that would help his older brother. He didn't know what to do. He had never imagined something like this happening.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean was groggy when he awoke and it took him long moments for recent events to come back to him.

Sam was still sitting at the low table. He didn't hear when Dean first woke but turned around quickly when he heard the bed squeak as the elder hunter got up.

"Dean…" Sam stopped talking, confused to see his brother standing, going through his duffel and pulling out fresh clothes.

Dean didn't turn at the sound of his younger brother's voice. He couldn't stop, couldn't deal, couldn't talk…he couldn't _talk _about what had happened last night or today.

Sam watched Dean disappear into the bathroom without trying to speak again. He knew his brother, knew Dean needed to distance himself from his earlier emotional outburst.

The shower was ridiculously long but that Sam had expected. He expected Dean to be in there, cleaning off that man's scent, the feel of his hands, fluids…Oh God, Sam didn't want to think about that…OH GOD, did Dean need an HIV test?!

Sam became increasingly impatient about the wait after that thought. He knew Dean was also in there delaying having to talk to Sam. The younger hunter knew that given time to himself, Dean would rebuild the walls around his emotions. Still Sam thought that might be a good thing. As much as he wished Dean would be more open, he didn't want Dean to be broken open. Still Sam hadn't thought even Dean would be able to build walls that high, not around something like _this_.

When Dean finally emerged from the shower, there was no cloud of steam that followed him. The water had long since gone cold. Sam took a deep breath before pouncing.

Dean, however, beat him to him.

"So let's get going. We can probably make it to Greenville by tonight."

Sam just stared, open mouthed, at his brother. He was unable to reconcile this Dean, who was standing before him dressed and apparently ready to go, acting like everything was normal, and the Dean of earlier that day, the Dean that had been so broken that he had wanted to kill himself, the one who had sobbed in Sam's arms.

"Isn't that where you said that poltergeist was?" Dean didn't look at Sam as he spoke, simply rattling things around in his bag as if he was packing.

"Dean, no…"

"Sam." Dean's voice was commanding, almost convincing in its strength. "Get in the car or I will leave you here."

Sam thought about refusing, but was afraid that Dean actually would leave him here this time, that Dean would take his refusal as a rejection and drive the Impala off a cliff somewhere. He figured at least in the car, Dean wouldn't be able to escape him.

That was not how it had turned out though. First, Dean told Sam repeatedly to shut up. Then he turned up the radio, and finally, Dean just plain ignored his younger brother.

So they drove in silence. When they made it to Greenville, Dean hopped out of the car quickly to get the room, leaving Sam to get the bags. Then the younger hunter entered the room to find Dean had gotten them two beds. He dropped the bags, opened his mouth to speak, but once again, Dean was quicker.

"I'm gonna go get some food. Get started on research." And with that Dean was gone.

It took Dean longer to get the food than usual and when he got back, the older hunter inhaled his food even quicker than normal. And when he was done, he took another ridiculously long shower.

He came out and asked Sam some questions about the hunt and then lay down as if to sleep though it was fairly early. Sam attempted to talk, but his brother just ignored him, turning out the lights and climbing under the covers. The younger hunter gave up, not knowing what else to do.

And that was how it went. Sam tried to get Dean to talk, tried to wear the older man down. He tried screaming, crying, pleading, and threatening.

The only thing he didn't do was threaten to leave. Sam knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he did that, that would be the end. Dean would eat his gun the minute Sam turned his back.

As it was, the only thing that Dean seemed to care about was hunting. And that Sam really should have expected. He had seen it before, Dean trying to bury his pain in violence, as if the only emotion he felt was anger. But Sam knew better.

And Dean was reckless, even more than usual as if he were trying to go out in a blaze of glory. Sam knew that he was the only thing holding Dean here; even though sometimes he thought that it was his presence that hurt his older brother most.

They were no longer lovers and even though Sam should have expected that too, it still hurt. It hurt to be the one standing there watching the man he loved fall apart, knowing that they couldn't touch like they used to, couldn't make love.

He knew that many relationships ended in the face of an assault. Sam had always scorned the men who gave up in those situations, blamed them for not trying harder. He had a greater sense of understanding now. These situations changed everything, changed _them_. Even if Dean got help, maybe they would never fit together like they had before.

It wasn't just that they didn't touch like lovers anymore. They didn't touch at all. The shell that Dean always kept between himself and other people, his 'personal space', had only gotten larger. Every time Sam tried to reach out to him, Dean jerked away as if burned.

Dean wouldn't even let Sam bandage him anymore. Sam had to stand outside the bathroom, listening to his brother's movements, hearing the elder man's half-stifled moans of pain.

They didn't talk about it, didn't talk about anything but hunting. Dean's face was perpetually stuck in a hard mask. Sam had always thought of his older brother as tough, only now realizing how expressive Dean's face was.

Sam was tempted to just give up, to stop pushing. He wanted to believe that Dean was strong, that he would be fine dealing with the incident in his usual way: ignoring the problem and burying the pain. God knows Sam didn't want to talk about what had happened to Dean, didn't want to know more than he already did, and he certainly didn't want to see Dean that vulnerable again.

It was selfishness that prevented the younger hunter from letting it go though. He couldn't go on like this, being near Dean only reminded Sam of what he had lost, of the times that Dean had let him under the armor that surrounded the older Winchester. Sam knew that Dean wasn't going to be _ok_ if he didn't deal with it and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that if their situations were reversed, Dean would never give up on Sam.

It had been Sam that had started things between them anyway, when he had finally stopped running away and started accepting who he was. And when Sam had finally accepted himself, accepted his life, then it was like seeing Dean with new eyes. The desire he felt then didn't even surprise him.

And he had known he wasn't imagining the heat in his brother's gaze, but he also knew that Dean would never make the first move. Dean would never touch his baby brother like that.

So Sam had started things. He remembered how shocked he had been when Dean had admitted that he had never been with another man before. Dean had said that it was because he hadn't gone to some hippie-dippie college where coeds studied sexual experimentation. At the time, Sam had been eager, excited to show his brother what pleasure was between men, to be Dean's_ first_.

But one look in his brother's wide and vulnerable eyes had brought the younger man back down to Earth. It told Sam that this meant something to Dean, and the weight of it scared him. He wondered if this was what Dean felt all the time, to be so solely responsible for another person's happiness and wellbeing. Sam was, however, in his twenties while Dean had been four. It had been humbling. It had also been frightening.

It had been selfishness then too, not wanting to see his brother's weakness because he didn't the responsibility. Easier to believe that Dean was indestructible, that he was an unfeeling bastard than to admit that he, Sam, had the power to destroy the older hunter. There was a reason that Dean acted so tough and it was as much Sam's fault as their father's. Both of them just took what Dean gave, too self-involved to question it because the elder Winchester brother had never seemed less than fine.

Of course, Dean had quickly gotten the hang of things, so to speak, and had resumed being his usual dominant self. It was only occasionally after that that Dean had given up control to Sam, though Sam relished the times when it had happened.

Sam sighed as the memories stirred his desires. He still felt desire, seeing his brother's tongue flick out to lick his full lips, watching Dean's muscles roll under the t-shirt as his brother stretched out in bed...yes, it hadn't just stopped. Sam still felt desire when he looked at his brother and it shamed the younger man. How could he be thinking about that when Dean was hurting so much? He just wanted to help. He had to do something.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: So this is the last chapter, thanks to everyone who read and especially to those who reviewed!!_

Dean woke with a gasp, in a blind panic, still hearing the man's words, breathed into his ear as his head was yanked backwards by the hand in his hair.

"I know you want it, baby…"

Dean had wanted so much to tell the man to fuck off then and as the older hunter lay there, panting in the dark, he still did. Dean thought now that he should have killed that son of a bitch, but at the time, all he could think about was getting far, far away.

The elder hunter rolled over onto his side to face his brother as he tried to quell his rising panic and control his panting breath.

Fortunately, his nightly terrors had not woken Sam. Dean stared across the empty expanse between the beds at his brother's sleeping form. He wanted so much to cross that space, to go to Sam, to curl against that gigantic form.

But he couldn't. Dean couldn't ask for help, not from his baby brother. He couldn't admit that every time he closed his eyes he felt again that overwhelming sense of powerlessness, that every time he looked in the mirror he felt violated and disgusting, that he was momentarily afraid every time someone, even Sam, got too close.

How could he put that kind of responsibility on Sam? No, better they just make a clean break so his brother had the chance of falling for someone else. It wasn't like what they had was forever anyway, Sam still had a chance for 'normal' and it was only a matter of time before the younger man took off to find it. And once Dean knew Sam was safe and happy, then he could let go…

They were on another hunt, a spirit this time, just a regular salt n' burn in another nameless town in the Midwest, Iowa maybe. It really didn't make any difference to Dean at this point. Dean only wanted to save as many people as possible before he bought it.

An unmarked grave in the middle of the woods, they had wandered for an hour just trying to find it. Dean had dug the grave entirely by himself, hoping to tire himself out enough so that his sleep that night would be dreamless.

It never would have happened before, _before_…Dean never would have been so careless, so reckless. But this time it wasn't just Dean that got hurt.

He was supposed to be distracting the thing so that Sam could set its bones aflame. Dean threw himself at the spirit, not caring when it threw him against a tree trunk, driving a broken limb an inch into his back above his right shoulder blade. Almost welcoming the pain, the pain that he felt he deserved for hurting Sammy.

But in that moment he knew, _knew_, that he had made a mistake. Sam was having a problem getting the match to burn and Dean had left his brother wide open to attack with his _stupid, foolish_ action.

The ghost, a man in his late forties with a perpetual snarl on his face, headed directly for Sam, throwing the gigantic form away from the gravesite effortlessly.

Dean screamed, as much as he hated to admit it, there was no other word for the sound that was torn from his throat. The elder hunter scrambled up, all business now and cold deadly intent as he strode over to the waiting hole in the ground.

He contained the urge to simply run to his brother's side, knowing that that wouldn't save Sam. Pulling out his own Zippo lighter, he threw it onto the bones, only pausing long enough to make sure they caught.

Sam was lying unmoving on the uneven ground. He must have hit his head, but Dean didn't think about what, or why, or how. All he could think about was that Sam was hurt, perhaps seriously and that it was all Dean's fault.

Dropping to his knees, he gathered the limp form in his arms, not an easy task. Dean patted his brother's cheek, wanting to beg anything that was listening for Sam to be ok. He would leave, he would go far away and never bother Sam again if his brother would just _wake up_.

Sam opened his eyes to a splitting headache and the even more painful sight of his brother above him looking absolutely wrecked, looking like he had that awful day in the motel room when everything had changed for them.

His brother wasn't crying but his pouty lips were trembling and Dean's voice was a choked sob as he spoke. Sam didn't need to hear the words to know what his brother was feeling.

"Sa-am, I'm so-oh sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Sam struggled to sit up, the pain behind his eyes increasing momentarily as he did so.

"Dean, I'm ok, I'm fine…"

The elder hunter looked unconvinced and Dean ran his hand through Sam's shaggy hair and over his face before being satisfied that his brother was in fact telling the truth.

Dean let out a shaky breath. The mask had shattered and Sam could see Dean's emotions written across his face. Dean looked at Sam with such concern and fierce love beneath a staggering amount of pain.

Sam took the opportunity to slide his hand to the back of his brother's neck, gripping it hard with his own need to protect his surprisingly fragile brother, _lover_, as he brought their foreheads together.

They sat there together, breathing the same air, each feeling the same love, the same fear, and the same need, that possessive need to protect one another that they had each inherited from their father.

And then Dean was pulling away to stand up, keeping his eyes averted from his brother's face even as he offered a hand to help Sam up.

"Come on, let's get you back to the room."

The walk back to the car was silent, Sam's steps were sure but Dean hovered just at his shoulder anyway, close but not touching. Sam was thinking of something to say, not wanting to let his brother's moment of openness slip away, but utterly unable to think of what to say that wouldn't cause his brother to shut down again.

And anyway it seemed as if Dean was thinking hard, working himself up to say something. It didn't happen til they made it back to the hotel room though.

Dean entered first, holding the door open for Sam to walk through and locking it behind them. Sam dropped wearily onto his bed against the far wall, looking up as his brother began to speak.

Dean stood by the foot of his bed near the door, his hands moving restlessly on his duffel.

"I'm sorry, Sam…for everything." And Sam knew without being told that Dean really was apologizing for everything, for their mother's death and their father's indifference, the reality of their childhood, for Dean's inability to forever spare his brother the horror of really knowing what was in the darkness, as well as for being raped, for getting Sam hurt, and even for letting anything sexual happen between the two brothers in the first place.

And Sam couldn't think of a damn thing to say back despite his brain working overtime in a desperate need to take some of the unbearable weight from his brother's shoulders. Dean just kept speaking.

"I can't do this anymore. I can't hurt you…anymore Sammy and that's all I'm doing. I was so **selfish** to want you to come back," Dean says and Sam can feel the self-loathing in those words. "I'll take you to the bus station in the morning and you can go wherever you want, go back to Stanford, find love, be 'normal'."

His brother must have seen the abject panic on Sam's face because he quickly added, "Don't worry. I'll find the demon, or dad will…I won't let it get away."

Sam couldn't be still anymore, he shot across the room, enveloping the smaller man in a strong hug, maybe too strong if the choked wheeze that his actions elicited was a clue.

"Sammy, don't…I know it'll be hard to start over without…without Jess, but it's for the best. You'll be fine."

Sam buried his face in Dean's neck, letting his own tears flow unhindered over his cheeks. Dean was using his 'big brother' voice, the one that said that everything was going to be ok because Dean was going to take care of everything. And Dean was using that voice because as usual, Sam's big brother was completely focused on taking care of everyone else.

And it **hurt**, it hurt because Sam knew, _knew_, that Dean was hurting and afraid, afraid of being alone, of being left behind.

Sam pulled back, wanting to look into his brother's green eyes and tell him that this time Sam was going to take care of Dean. He was distracted though when his hands came away wet from his brother's back. Looking down at them, Sam realized that it was blood, blood was covering his hands. Dean's blood.

Sam hadn't known his brother was injured or he wouldn't have been sitting around arguing like this. He opened his mouth to order Dean to let him help this time, when he was caught by Dean's panicked expression.

Dean grabbed hold of Sam's wrists forcefully, dragging the larger man into the bathroom and forcing his hands under the faucet to scrub them fiercely with the soap.

"You didn't have any cuts, did you Sam? Did you?!" Dean's voice had become more frantic, confusing Sam even more.

"I…I don't know."

Dean was beginning to calm down as the red washed down the sink, revealing Sam's hands to be without any cuts.

"Thank god, oh thank god," Dean murmured as he virtually collapsed onto the side of the tub.

"Dean, what…oh." It suddenly occurred to Sam what his brother would be so concerned about. HIV.

"Dean, have you been...? Were you…?"

"Yeah, I've been tested, Sam." Dean's voice just sounded exhausted now, his hand coming up to rub over his mouth. "They all came back negative but they say that in some people it can take up to six months to show up and you know with our luck…"

Sam nodded his head, trying to remember everything he had ever heard about HIV tests. It had been 32 days since Dean was…

"But in most people, it would show up in the first 28 days, right, so…"

Dean cut him off. "I'm not taking any chances with you, Sam."

Sam nodded, knowing that without being told. "Yeah but you won't be able to reach that puncture wound on your back and I have some gloves…"

Sam left the bathroom to go get the gloves. Dean sat there, resigned, too tired to argue and recognizing that stubborn glint in his brother's eyes. He also felt slightly nauseous about having had to talk to Sam about the tests, that he was such a whore that he couldn't touch his own brother without infecting Sam.

The younger hunter was equally affected. He re-entered the bathroom wearing a pair of thin latex gloves that he sometimes wore to prevent his fingerprints from being left at a crime scene during a hunt. Sam felt terrible at not being able to touch his brother skin to skin. He knew that it confirmed Dean's worst fears, that his brother wasn't worthy to be touched.

Dean turned around so that his feet were now inside the tub and removed another bloody t-shirt. Sam cleaned and stitched the puncture wound. It wasn't too deep but it did tear the muscle so it would be painful unless Dean took it easy until it healed. Not that his brother would ever do that.

With a sigh, Sam gently wiped away the blood that had flowed down his brother's back, soaking the waistband of his jeans.

"You should take these off and let them soak in some cold water, Dean."

The older hunter sighed, too, and stood stiffly, feeling as if he were a much older man. He unzipped and pushed his jeans down. They were followed by his boxers as Dean realized with a sigh of disgust that they were stiff with blood as well.

Dean was slightly startled as before he leaned down to remove the clothing from his feet, Sam was already there, on his knees, gently pulling the stiff fabric over his feet. It made the older hunter feel oddly contented, taken care of. It also made Dean feel suddenly afraid when he realized that he was standing in the bathroom naked. But again, Sam was there, handing him a towel to wrap around his waist.

Standing there, Dean felt completely at a loss for what to do. He had told Sam that he was leaving, had told him about the tests and his brother was acting as if nothing had happened. Sam was, in fact, being ridiculously helpful.

The elder man followed quietly when Sam led him away with a hand to the small of his back and another to his elbow. Sam knew that his brother was only being compliant because he was confused and too tired to be belligerent about it.

And the younger Winchester wasn't above using Dean's blood loss and sleepless nights against him. Sam thought that Dean needed to be taken care of for once, needed to be reassured that someone, that _Sam_ loved him enough to be there for him in his weakest moment.

Sam led his brother over to his bed, handing him a pair of sweatpants. He turned away with the excuse of putting the first aid kit back in Dean's back so that the elder Winchester could drop the towel in semi-private.

When he turned back Dean had crawled under the covers, but was staring at Sam with wide defenseless eyes. The elder man was startled when Sam crawled in beside him but moved over to make room after only a moment's hesitation.

Dean felt only slightly uncomfortable when strong arms wrapped around him. His younger brother was cradling him as they lay in the bed together and it felt good. It felt so good that Dean allowed the embrace despite the inner voice that said that he was being weak. It was what he needed.

"Dean, I'm not going to leave and if you take me to the bus station, I'll just follow you. I love you and not just as my brother."

Wide, green eyes just kept staring at Sam, unbelieving. Sam knew that Dean had been hurt too much to believe just words. He would have to prove it.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Sam, no…" Dean's objection was just a soft whisper that sounded more like a plea.

"Dean, it's safe. For once neither of us has a split lip." Sam smiled then, trying to lighten the moment, but it seemed he wasn't nearly as good at it as his older brother was.

He leaned in, taking his brother's lush lips in a gentle exploring kiss. Caught in the moment, Sam made the mistake of shifting closer. Both men froze when the younger man's erection pressed into Dean's hip.

"Dean, I…" Sam felt ashamed and couldn't think of a single thing to say to explain himself. He just couldn't help the reaction he had to being so close to his brother.

"Sam, you…you still want me?" The insecurity in his brother's voice ate at Sam. Dean wasn't ever supposed to sound so unsure.

"I'll always want you and I'll prove it no matter how long it takes. Now c'mere, go to sleep and if you have a dream, I'll be right here."

They didn't have sex that night but they were lovers again. And this time it would be better, because this time Sam wouldn't be fooled by his brother's annoyingly cocky and shallow exterior. Sam knew now what that mask hid: a good, beautiful man who felt too much, who had developed a hard outer shell to protect a frighteningly fragile interior. Sam couldn't expect his brother to change overnight into some emo, touchy-feely girl, but there were cracks in the armor and Sam fully intended to keep chipping away at them.

_So...tell me what you think? Want a sequel? A prequel? THanks again._


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